


La Onda Noche

by RockSaltandCherryPie



Category: Breaking Bad, Breaking Bad RPF
Genre: Dancing, Drinking, Drunken Flirting, Hotel Sex, M/M, Partying, Sexual Harassment, Wet & Messy, alcohol consumption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:15:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockSaltandCherryPie/pseuds/RockSaltandCherryPie
Summary: At the season 3 wrap party ofBreaking Bad,everybody is in awe of how GOOD Aaron looks as Jane. Including Bryan.
Relationships: Bryan Cranston/Aaron Paul
Comments: 12
Kudos: 18





	1. The Party

**Author's Note:**

> Based almost entirely off [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rSL-s7hn75Q&list=FLysiYREfYwBgYUrgJN5LH9w) interview they did, and my crazy wild mind wondering what actually went down at that party.  
> Also, [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yJGL1hdl8Cw) is the song that's playing and where the title comes from. :)  
> I know I'm technically supposed to be continuing my Jesse/Walt fic but I wasn't too happy with where it was going and quickly got bored of it. This one, however, I'm planning at least a part 2, maybe more depending on where it takes me. Hope you guys like :)

It felt like Halloween. Halloween in June, as the cast and crew lovingly called the annual Breaking Bad wrap party. They didn’t even know how it started. Was most likely another one of Bryan’s brilliant ideas, and it started with him and Aaron dressing up as each other’s characters last year. Aaron went as Walt and Bryan went as Jesse. It was such a hit, that it seemed to have become something of a tradition now. Last week, a week before shooting ended on season three, the pair had tossed around ideas in hair and makeup about what costumes they should wear for this year’s party. The expectations were set high from last year, and they didn’t want to disappoint. They could be the twins, “the cousins” as they were known, but that would require more bald caps and it wasn’t a fun process for Aaron last year. Hector Salamanca and Gus? Not fun enough. There had to be some sort of a comedic element, that’s what made it such a riot. And that’s when it hit Aaron.

He proposed the idea to Bryan of dressing as Jane and Skyler. As expected, he adored it. They ran it by Georgia Allen, who had been touching up a few spots of concealer on Aaron’s forehead. She would help them out for the party, and Lori would help them find some wigs. Aaron was positive they would still have some of Jane’s stuff lying around the wardrobe department, all he’d have to do is ask. 

It was the night of the party and Aaron found himself looking in a mirror and hardly recognizing the person that was staring back at him. He looked like Krysten. Like, almost identical. 

“Holy shit,” he said after Georgia was finished on him. He almost didn’t want to talk, out of fear it would ruin this illusion he had going on. Bryan was sitting in the chair beside him, already dressed in his “Skyler” outfit: a cobalt blue dress complete with a padded bra and two shiny silver bracelets. The chest hair peaking out from under the dress just completed the look.

“Holy crap,” Bryan said almost in unison with him. “Who _are_ you?”

Aaron just laughed, but could not look away from his reflection. It was uncanny. He leaned in close to the mirror, touching his new long black hair, running his fingers through it at the back. “This is crazy.”

“See, that’s not fair,” Bryan started jokingly. “How come you make such a fantastic woman?”

Aaron just shook his head in disbelief. Georgia was laughing as she began working on Bryan’s face. As Aaron got up and gathered his “Jane” clothes to change into, Bryan made some joke about how she has her work cut out for her with him. 

In the back room where they were set up, there was a space behind a curtain to change. Bryan had been there earlier when he was getting into his Skyler dress, however, he hadn’t even bothered to use the curtain. Aaron always found it funny that Bryan often sported the same “tighty-whitey” underwear that Walt did. He did have a few darker pairs that he wore on special occasions like for conferences or meetings. Not that Aaron was keeping track or anything. 

Aaron drew the curtain back and stepped into the small corner of the room, then closed the curtain. He had to. Krysten’s jeans were a few sizes too small, so Katie, who bought a lot of the pieces for wardrobe, had actually helped him find a good pair that fit. However, they were still women’s jeans and he had to squeeze everything into them. Bryan was lucky he had his junk free with that dress. It was easy for him. 

Before he left his place, Aaron had searched for almost an hour to find the tightest underwear he owned, and finally had a bit of luck with an old pair he had by Calvin Klein that was all black except for the waistband, and was so tight it barely held him in place. Not to mention the part that was supposed to cover his ass was doing a piss poor job. It felt like he was wearing a thong. He wasn’t even sure why he owned it; probably for some past role. But he hadn’t worn it in over 4 years and he knew if Bryan saw, he would have something to say about it. 

He took down his own jeans and picked up the female ones. He squeezed them over his thighs, pulled them as high as they could go, and felt the tug of the zipper against his crotch. He winced a bit at the snugness, then tried to tuck himself into them some more. He buttoned them up and to his surprise, it wasn’t so bad. Sure it was tight, but things seemed to shift into the right position and he smiled to himself, content. He already had the top on, which was a grey t-shirt with printed roses on it that Krysten wore in one of the final episodes she shot. After that, he got into the jacket, and the look was complete. He stepped out from behind the curtain and walked back over to get a good look at himself in the mirror. 

“Holy crap,” Bryan said again. He couldn’t stop saying it. He couldn’t stop _staring_ either. 

Aaron, looking himself over, suddenly felt like someone else entirely. It was incredible. The makeup, the hair, the clothes... He _was_ Jane.

“Are you seeing this?” Bryan was asking Georgia. “He’s so sexy! I mean I haven’t even had anything to drink yet and I can say that.”

Aaron felt his face flush as he laughed low in his throat. He wouldn’t even deny it, he thought he looked pretty sexy too. And he felt it. He pretend-strutted over and stood behind Bryan, and leaned on the back of his chair. Georgia was preparing Bryan’s blonde wig, grinning from ear to ear. Aaron put his hands over Bryan’s shoulders and leaned down. 

“Don’t worry, it passes.” He tried to give his best Jane impression, as he put on a softer, gentler voice.

Bryan stiffened and glared in disbelief straight ahead at himself with this gorgeous dark-haired woman who was practically seducing him right there in the makeup chair. “Get the fuck outta here,” he cracked, loosening after Aaron burst into laughter. 

They rented out Zinc Wine Bar and Bistro, which was located in the heart of downtown, near the University of New Mexico. It was a modern, high class joint with a bar and lots of tables, and a second story overlooking the rest of the place. It was the perfect size to accommodate the entire cast and crew without it being too overcrowded. The festivities—meaning the drinking— had already commenced by the time Aaron and Bryan came out. Everybody was there: the writers, the producers, camera operators, sound and music, the editing team, and the entire cast. It was such a great celebration of everything they had all accomplished over the past year. 

They went around, gathering chuckles and compliments from everybody, photos were snapped left and right. But the one thing on everybody’s lips was how incredibly _good_ Aaron looked as Jane. Truth be told, Aaron was eating up the compliments. Was he expecting all the praise? Definitely not. But he was quite aware of how good he looked, and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world being told as much.

Drinks magically appeared in their hands almost immediately, and before they knew it they were each engulfed in various different conversations about their work or about little recollections of on-set anecdotes. Everybody was in story-telling mode, the drinks going around the perfect lubricant for chatting, laughing, and having a good time. There was a DJ who was hired to play songs Aaron recognized from the series, like Heisenberg’s Ballad and a few of the instrumental numbers. 

There were hors d’oeuvres going around, and a table set up buffet-style with salads, fish, beef, pasta dishes, pretty much everything under the sun. They had several toasts and speeches, including one from the amazing Vince Gilligan. He expressed his gratitude for everyone’s hard work over the past year, and how lucky he felt to work with such talented, professional people (that was when he cracked a joke about Bryan and everybody laughed in unison). Bryan gave a speech next, and reiterated how grateful he was to be working on a show he not only feels a tremendous amount of love for, but with a cast and crew he feels the same way about. He raised his glass to them. 

Drink after drink settled low in Aaron’s stomach, long after the food was taken away and replaced by delicious desserts and treats. At one point he had a bourbon in one hand and a chocolate-covered strawberry in the other. His head was beginning to feel fuzzy now, as it often did by the third or fourth drink. His throat felt warm and fiery in a familiar, almost comforting way, but the strawberry soothed it sweetly. That was when Bryan came over with yet another drink in his hand, something red with an orange. His blonde wig was looking disheveled and the black scarf he had been sporting for the majority of the night was now nowhere to be found.

“Chocolate strawberries, huh?” He commented, picking one up for himself. 

Aaron hummed as he savoured the thing in his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

Bryan took a bite and nodded his approval. “I didn’t take you for the chocolate strawberry type, _Jane_.”

Aaron smirked, taking another slow, deliberate bite. “Why’s that?”

“It’s so... _seductive_ ,” Bryan mused, turning the fruit around in his fingers. “Definitely took you for more of a no-nonsense type gal. You know, like stop dragging your feet and get on with it already.”

Aaron couldn’t hide the grin that took to his lips behind the bite he was taking. His face got hot and there was a tightness in his stomach that he couldn’t shake. “I mean, every girl likes a bit of play now and then.”

Bryan was now grinning along with him, finding his words too amusing, his shoulders leaning in and almost bumping against Aaron’s. Aaron could smell the scotch on his breath, sweet and intoxicating. Aaron looked away, putting the end bit of the strawberry down on a napkin. Bryan picked up another one and deliberated it for a while. But even as he contemplated, glancing at it and then at Aaron, the two couldn’t keep the smirks from their faces. Oh god, why did Aaron want that god damn strawberry? And more importantly, why did he want Bryan to feed it to him? Truth be told, it was probably a number of things. The bourbon, currently running through his veins, impairing his judgement and meddling with his thoughts and right-mind, and the fact that he was dressed as a _woman_ and guys had pretty much been checking him out all night. But if he was being honest, he didn’t seem to have a care in the world. He started to open his mouth, anticipating the interaction, staring intently right back at Bryan who said nothing and instead just let the strawberry hang there in his hand. Bryan cracked a grin, letting his weight shift onto one side, impossibly even closer to Aaron. 

“You want it, you gotta ask nicely.” 

The heat in Aaron’s chest rose, enjoying this little game they had going on probably way too much. His judgement was lagging so far behind that he actually opened his mouth to start to say something, to beg for the fucking strawberry even though there were dozens in a bowl right there that he could have just grabbed himself. Something about begging Bryan for anything just made his skin feel like it was on fire in the best way possible and he wanted it. Impossibly, he wanted to beg Bryan for it. 

But just then a voice came from far off, calling to them. “Hey, boys!” It was Mark Johnson, their executive producer. The tension was torn in two, right down the middle, and Aaron saw Bryan put the strawberry down on the napkin. 

Mark strutted over to them, drink in-hand. He seemed to teeter with his step, like he had had one-too-many. They rarely saw Mark except for at big meetings and parties, and he always seemed like a decent enough guy, but Aaron had really only had a handful of conversations with the guy. They greeted him in a friendly, chummy way: he shook Bryan’s hand and went in for the half-hug, while with Aaron he went for the cheek-kiss and squeezed him pretty tight. 

“Y’know, I gotta say, you guys are _killing_ the game,” Mark started. “And not just with these -” he stumbled over the words. ‘With these costumes. But I mean this past season was - was just incredible. Just incredible.” It was pretty clear he was gone the moment he opened his mouth. His eyes were glazed over, darting in every direction, desperately trying to focus. Aaron found it pretty amusing. He glanced at Bryan who seemed to think the same as he thanked the man sincerely. 

Bryan excused himself to go get more drinks for himself and Aaron as a different, louder song came on. People had started to congregate towards the middle of the floor, in front of the DJ, to dance together and have a good time. 

“Why didn’t he just— I mean there’s a bar right here,” Mark said, gesturing a few paces away at the back bar. There were two in the place, but this one didn’t appear to be in use. Not that he could tell that from the state he was in. He leaned on it with his hand, looking for the nonexistent bartender.

Aaron went over. “They’re using the one at the front,” he said loudly, although he still had to repeat it closer to Mark because he hadn’t heard him the first time. 

On the second time, Mark nodded. He pulled Aaron in by the shoulders. “You know I hardly recognized you.”

Aaron smiled and nodded, smelling the hard liquor radiating off of him. It seemed to be seeping out of his pores. “I know, that’s what everybody’s been saying. It’s great.” The place was so loud he still had to speak rather loudly despite their proximity. 

“It _is_ great. I mean, you are just phenomenal. Not just — you know, tonight,” Aaron had no idea what he was even saying, but he just went along with it. He kept pulling him in closer still, his face inches away from Aaron’s. “But this whole year has been so great for you.”

“Well, thank you, I appreciate it.” Aaron noticed Bryan still over by the front bar, leaning over it. However, he had taken off his wig and held it in his hand and was chatting it up with Giancarlo.

“No, I’m serious. You were just great. Just great. And this— like, tonight—” Mark’s eyes drifted from Aaron’s lips to his neck, as the hand on his shoulder travelled down to his back and was generously rubbing at it. 

“Yeah,” was what Aaron said because he didn’t know what he should say. Not that Mark was making intelligible conversation by any means, but Aaron was growing more and more uncomfortable with each word, each persistent touch. He smiled and swallowed down the final sip of his drink because he wasn’t sure what else to do. The ice hit his tongue and then clinked back down after he set it on the bar behind him. It jostled Mark a bit but he persisted. He laughed, pulling Aaron in again. 

“You know, I was saying to Vince, what is Krysten doing here?” This time his hand travelled to Aaron’s waist and around it, underneath the jacket. He pulled him impossibly closer, and Aaron felt their hips bump together. The alcohol muddled his brain because he wasn’t even thinking of trying to push him off. That’s what it had to be. The other option was too ridiculous to even entertain. The fact that he respected this man and had this strong desire to impress him. That’s not what it was, though— he just was too drunk to care. Instead, he smiled politely in return and practically allowed himself to be pulled in to the arms of a mentally incapacitated Mark Johnson. 

Mark gave a little squeeze and it alighted every nerve in his body. He was suddenly acutely aware of everything, and not even the bourbon could keep the restless feeling in his stomach at bay. He bit his lip to keep from saying something inappropriate. Not that Mark would remember anything in the morning anyway. 

“But you just look —” Mark leaned in to talk lowly in Aaron’s ear. He didn’t finish the sentence. His hand slid down impossibly lower, and Aaron stiffened. A chill crept down his spine as he felt the producer’s palm over his ass, caressing it. He could feel everything through the thin layer of denim that was now feeling tighter than ever. He instantly felt nauseous and like he might wobble over. 

“And what exactly do we have here?” It was Bryan’s voice, and the two of them turned to face him. Instantly, Mark removed his hand and cracked an innocent, playful grin. 

“I was just telling Aaron how good he looked,” Mark said. 

Aaron exchanged a glance with Bryan.

“You didn’t get one for me?” Mark asked, noticing the two drinks in Bryan’s hand. 

“No, I think you’ve had enough, Mark,” Bryan said, making sure to keep his tone light and good-natured. 

Mark laughed and tried to deny his intoxication. “I mean, doesn’t he look great?”

“Yeah, he does,” and with that Bryan handed Aaron the drink. “Hey, Aaron, Giancarlo was telling me this funny story, you gotta hear it.” He gestured back toward the other bar. 

The pair walked away, and Aaron felt a wave of relief wash over him. He felt light-headed, but even still, he took a sip of his new drink and it made everything feel warm and hazy again. He thought he heard Bryan say “you good?” so he nodded, although it was so loud in there he might not have said anything at all. They walked past the people dancing to the front of the bar where they were instantly greeted and welcomed into the lively conversation with ease. 

The rest of the night was spent chasing tequila shots with limes and being engulfed in a myriad of set stories and rememberings. It was a great time, and Aaron had completely forgotten about circumstances that took place earlier in the night. He was having a blast. A slow, steady beat began with a sultry Spanish singer, and as it came on he heard Bryan go “ohh.”

Aaron started swaying his hips to the beat. He was still dressed fully in his Jane costume, however, the party-pooper that he was, Bryan had gotten changed back into pants and a shirt, much to everyone’s disappointment. He claimed the bra was beginning to chafe, and Anna had said something about how he should try wearing one every day, at which everybody laughed. Aaron could have changed too, he wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t. It was too much fun, and everybody seemed to love it, so what would be the point?

“Let’s dance, come on,” Bryan said, taking Aaron by the arm. Never one to take no for an answer, he led him out amongst the men and women having a good time swaying to the low, unfaltering beat. 

Aaron did protest a little, but tequila always just made him giggly and happy, so it didn’t take much for him to get out there and start rocking back and forth... and back and forth. Bryan took his hands and, watching him with adoration, moved along with him. They were well aware their friends were watching them with great amusement at the beginning, but neither one cared one bit. 

As the song maintained it’s constant beat, Aaron got lost in it more and more. There was something about the slow, tasteful rhythm that whirred his intoxicated mind in a way that kept him moving, feeling every sound. He hadn’t danced like this in years. And never with a partner that he felt he knew so well he could almost see him through closed eyes. His hands found Bryan’s arms and pulled him in closer, and the pair danced in unison. 

“Aaron— what did Mark say to you?” They were so close that Bryan was speaking in his ear, just for him to hear.

Aaron got pulled from his reverie and looked down through wisps of jet black hair. They moved slowly, more deliberately. 

“Nothing.” It was the truth. Honestly, Aaron couldn’t even remember. He just wanted to keep dancing.

“I mean, did he say anything you didn’t like?” Bryan was just looking out for him like he always did, but Aaron wanted to forget about the whole thing and just keep enjoying his night. 

“No, man. Look, it’s fine.” Not really sure what his body was doing, Aaron found his arms raising up around Bryan’s neck. It started as a hug but it felt so nice he just kept them there and continued moving to the beat with Bryan. Bryan’s hands were at his waist, gently holding him. Aaron let his head rest on Bryan’s shoulder. It was then that he realized how tired he was. His head was heavy but his body wanted to keep dancing, keep going. This was the most fun he’d had in a really long time. He felt Bryan’s body pulling away, and he wanted to keep him there. 

“No, stay,” he actually said. “This was your stupid idea, now you’re gonna stay and dance with me.”

Bryan leaned back, stupefied. “Is that so?” He grinned, enamored. 

“Yes, that’s so.”

So they kept at it, their hips moving together like mirrored images, and Aaron was so energetically charged he hardly knew what to do to keep his nerves at bay. It was like every little thing Bryan did he just wanted to have it, more of it. And the more they touched the more he noticed, he wanted _him_. His jeans were now impossibly too tight, his skin too sensitive. He felt everything, like the subtle stroke of Bryan’s fingers against his wrist. Like the light bump of their hips, their arms. The music grew louder in his ears, almost louder than the roaring of his own blood that was pulsating through him, making his head throb. Bryan held his wrists in his sticky palms and Aaron imagined they were somewhere else, somewhere where it could just be the two of them, some beach in Mexico. With the wailing of the wind and the rush of the sea breeze against their skin. But the music got quieter and quieter until Aaron was brought back to the bar to his too-tight jeans and the hundreds of people surrounding them. 

The song was finished and the DJ blended it into another upbeat instrumental mix. The pair separated, and for a while Aaron just stood there. Bryan didn’t speak either, just lay a hand on Aaron’s shoulder and then let it fall as he walked away.


	2. Zinc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night progresses...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know why this took me so long. I kept changing it around, and finally landed on a draft that I could work with after about 3 different ideas I had spinning around up there. There were a few that didn't sit right because I couldn't see them happening IRL... and even though YES it's fiction, I still want to hold on to some semblance of reality. I try to, at least, with all of my fics. Anyway, if you like it, yes please leave me some comments. Comments are much appreciated. Heh!  
> PS. I really don’t know what happened to my formatting so I’m terribly sorry it looks so wonky I don’t know how to fix it.😩

The Zinc Wine Bar and Bistro was about an hour drive away from both Aaron and Bryan’s place, and neither of them were in any condition to drive. They could get a taxi, sure, but what would be the point? A lot of the cast and crew were only in town for the weekend, so the studio had put most of them up in the hotel upstairs. They were both aware of the fact that they had two rooms available to them “just in case” they wanted to stay the night with the rest of the gang. The place was one large building, with the ground floor being the bar, and one flight up was a lounge, and then the rooms went up to 12 stories high. Aaron was pretty sure he even heard someone mention a rooftop lounge as well.  
The party had dispersed by around 1:30AM, with a few of the locals heading home by taxi or carpool, and the rest saying their good nights or goodbyes. There was an arrangement that Aaron thought he overheard to meet in the lounge after everyone checked in to their rooms, for a final drink or two.  
Aaron and Bryan’s rooms were directly across from one another on the fourth floor. As they stepped off the elevator and into the corridor, Aaron was becoming more aware of how badly he wanted to change back into male clothes. Clothes that actually _fit_. His thoughts were becoming a little clearer since he had that glass of water, but the fuzzy, tingly sensation in his brain was ever present. Both of them found it amusing that neither of them could walk in a straight line, and as they stumbled down the hallway looking for their rooms, they giggled like little girls about keeping quiet for other guests. Not that there were other guests here that weren’t part of their show in some way.  
418 and 419. They found the rooms, and Aaron used his card to get in. His belongings had already been brought up for him which he was grateful for. Aaron found it funny that Bryan just followed him in to his room instead of retiring to his own. Even though this was most likely an unconscious gesture, it wasn’t the first time they had chosen to be in the same room as one another. There were a few occasions where the studio had accidentally booked one room for both of them, and instead of switching it at the reception desk, they just spent the night together. There was something comforting about it, familiar. There was even a night back when they were shooting the first season, where they hadn’t taken up residency yet in Albuquerque and were staying in hotels. The two of them went to some bar after a long night to take the edge off, which led to getting really drunk and some guy picking a fight with Aaron over something ridiculous. Aaron couldn’t even remember what it was, but the guy was apparently known to cause trouble. Anyway, he wound up with a nick under his left eye and a sour attitude. They had gone back to one hotel room that night and Bryan had tried to calm him down. One thing led to another and they ended up kissing. It wasn’t like it was planned or anything, and they both weren’t quite sure why it happened, but it did. Aaron kept that memory tucked away in the far corners of his mind, and occasionally, when the drink loosened him up, he pondered it again; the soft brush of lips, the scratch of Bryan’s beard, the gentle caress of fingers.  
Aaron sighed and walked to the mirror. He had actually almost forgotten that he looked nothing like himself, and it startled him. “Oh man,” he said, coming up to the mirror and leaning on the sink. The dark shadow around his eyes made his blue eyes seem even brighter than usual, and his lipstick had come off mostly since he hadn’t bothered to reapply it, but there was a ghost of pink left in its wake. Aaron bit at it and noticed that the colour didn’t budge. Black hair suited him well, and the bangs framed his face and made him look somehow more delicate.  
“Time to get back to being Aaron again?” Bryan said humorously.  
“Bye, Jane,” Aaron smirked as he pulled the black wig from his head. His short, fair hair was a mess underneath, which only made him more amused. He tried to arrange it with a bit of water but it wasn’t much good.  
Bryan came up behind him and slung an arm around his shoulder. “Ah, there you are.”  
Their reflection was picturesque, they both looked like they had had one freaking wild night, that much was for certain. Aaron grabbed a tissue and began scrubbing at his lips. “How’s this stuff supposed to come off anyway?” He was having no luck with just a tissue and water. All it was doing was smearing things around messily.  
“I think,” Bryan examined Aaron’s lips. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but at this hour, a lady would typically have some help in getting that off, if you know what I mean.” He had on his best shit-eating grin, the one he often wore when he was playing stupid pranks on set.  
Aaron was still attempting to scrub it off, but when he saw the expression on Bryan’s face he couldn’t hold his composure. This was what they did. They threw banter back and forth until the other cracked, which most of the time was Aaron. But they always seemed to be on the cusp of something, never really getting there, but always coming so close. Aaron knew it was one of those times. As much as he loved it, he hated it even more. It was growing harder to cope with the open-endedness of everything, like diving into a pool headfirst but never hitting the bottom. Most of the time that’s how he felt when he was with Bryan. Not getting enough air.  
Suddenly everything was deathly still, and all he was aware of was Bryan’s lips. Right there, inches from his own. And silence, nothing but the sound of their breathing. Bryan pulled him in, and Aaron held his breath. He couldn’t think. His heart stopped. But then he felt Bryan’s mouth pressing against his own and it was like all of his strength was leaving his body. Luckily Bryan’s arm was keeping him up at the back of his neck, otherwise he may have fallen over. His senses were taken over by _Bryan_ and his smell, his taste, the soft, warm slide of his tongue. He was just melting into it. He pulled back to catch his breath, barely able to process what was happening. Was he actually _kissing_ Bryan? Was this actually happening? This wasn’t just some intoxicated, deluded fantasy, right? His head pounded with too many thoughts, so to shut them up he crashed against Bryan once more, this time with conviction, with an energetic stamina that could have knocked both of them over. Bryan blindly fumbled to pull Aaron’s jacket from his shoulders, moving on pure adrenaline. Aaron shrugged out of it, having no intention of breaking their kiss. There was no telling when or if they would ever get this back if it left. Instead he moved on pure instinct, working on Bryan’s shirt buttons, fingers moving too quickly for the tiny holes. He just wanted all of _him_ , all at once. He felt Bryan’s mouth at his neck and he groaned, chills coursing throughout his entire body with the hot nick of teeth. He managed to get Bryan’s shirt undone, and by the time it was off they had somehow converged to the foot of the bed. Aaron felt his knees give out as Bryan fell on top of him, practically pushing him down onto the bed with a commanding conviction. Their bodies collided, Bryan’s hips pressing down onto the restricting zipper of Aaron’s jeans that he was still wearing. They were a tangle of limbs, and Aaron was helped out of his shirt in one swift motion. He couldn’t think. It was like he was finally reaching the bottom of that pool. Drowning and yet... somehow breathing under water. He never wanted to emerge, to come up for air. There was a brief moment in the midst of the chaotic entanglement, where they separated for just a fraction of a second to stare at each other in a heated daze, and Aaron couldn’t help but bite his lip as it tingled with the lack of contact. Looking up at Bryan, he waited for it to come back. And it did. Bryan leaned down and devoured his mouth once more, and Aaron groaned into it, taken by the obscene crassness. Aaron brought his leg up around Bryan’s hip, wanting more. He pushed up against his groin impatiently, and it elicited a deep, low groan from Bryan’s throat. Bryan pulled back enough to get his own zipper down ineptly.  
Aaron did the same, impatiently fumbling with buttons — for some reason there were two and it took all of his effort to get them both undone. Bryan helped him pull his jeans off because now that he was sweating, the tight denim was clinging to his skin in the most uncomfortable way. He kicked out of them at last and Bryan looked him over. His eyes were glassy and quaint as he examined the underwear Aaron had had no choice but to wear tonight.  
“What do we have here?” He asked, his voice taking on a playful tone, captivated by what he was seeing.  
Aaron actually felt his face heat up, feeling ridiculous. “I didn’t have a choice. Nothing else fit under those damn jeans,” he admitted uncomfortably. But then Bryan slid a finger along the elastic band of the undergarment, and his smirk faded. His expression went to something darker, and oddly unsettling in the most compelling way. It made Aaron shift nervously.  
“What?” Aaron said lowly. “Do you like it?”  
Bryan didn’t respond. Instead, he bit his lip to keep from saying anything he’d regret, it seemed. Aaron could have sworn he heard him hum low in his throat, a subtle but candid noise of approval. “Turn over,” was what he said after that, and it made all of Aaron’s blood rush south in record time.  
He did as he was told, and flipped over onto his stomach, his limbs feeling jittery and weak at the same time. The world spun out of control, and all Aaron could feel was the weight of Bryan behind him and the wet rasp of breathing at his ear. It was all he could do to keep his body upright, especially with Bryan heavy on top of him, so they struggled back and forth to hold some sort of position but it didn’t work.  
A million thoughts were running through Aaron’s head. They had never gotten this far before in any sort of sexual venture, and for Bryan to actually instruct him to take action and turn around it meant they were about to cross that unspoken boundary, the one Aaron had been wanting to cross pretty much ever since he laid eyes on Bryan just three short years ago. Felt like longer. He wanted to be underneath him, wanted to feel Bryan’s hands on his hips, his body against his. And it seemed it was happening. So fast he couldn’t think straight. He didn’t even think Bryan bothered to take off his pants.  
There was no exchange of words. They weren’t needed. They were both well aware of what the other wanted and what was happening.  
At first, there was a sting. A stretch. But it was soothed quickly when Bryan pulled back out and two sopping wet fingers glided inside him in place of his erection. Bryan never was a very patient man. When he wanted something, he usually went for it with reckless abandon. And he always got what he wanted. Soon the fingers were pulling in and out with such a smooth, constant rhythm, Aaron’s body started to welcome them more and more. He tried to relax on to them, but his body felt like it was on fire and every push in, pull out had him only wanting _more_ , tightening up around the fingers impatiently. He wasn’t a virgin in that sense, in terms of being with another man — there had definitely been some experimentation in his teenagedom, when he was just a kid from Idaho fresh out of high school with a dream that took him to L.A. There had been “friends” he hooked up with, guys from the occasional improv classes he took in West Hollywood, and he was no stranger to the sensation of another guy being inside him. But Bryan... it was... another story. The other guys were just flings, hook-ups. They meant nothing. Bryan was his mentor, and Aaron had been attracted to the man since day one. In love with him even, maybe. And his touch was like fire and ice, it somehow burned his skin and made him shiver all over at the same time.  
A slide... an insistent slickness pressing at his entrance... stretching him open. It was hard not to squirm around, and it took all of Aaron’s energy just to hold still. He felt Bryan’s hand at his hip, firmly keeping him in place, and was reminded with startling clarity that this was about to happen. Between the two of them. Things probably wouldn’t be the same after this. But Aaron didn’t have time to think further — after that, things were kind of a blur. Aaron was being spread apart, shoved harder into the hotel mattress. Each thrust knocked the breath out of him, and only proceeded to pick up speed. His heart clammered around in his chest, pounding heavily. He could hear Bryan’s labored breath at his ear, his throat hitching on one particularly forceful shove of his hips. It all happened so fast, and suddenly it was just the two of them, grunting frantically in unison right there in the middle of the goddamn hotel room, and that was all Aaron could hear. All he could _feel_ was Bryan, pushing sinfully inside of him, getting closer and closer to the edge. It was fast and it was chaotic and slippery and _oh god_ , Aaron never wanted it to end. A mouth at his neck, the feel of groping hands all over his body. Teeth nicking hot, sticky flesh, a stutter of hips and then... a release. Bryan let go, warm and wet inside him. With every last faltering push and pull, Aaron could feel their high descending, like a wave carrying the two of them to shore. They lay there, breathlessly heaving, as they tried to collect what had scattered of their consciousness. Aaron’s head spun fast, but he let his breathing slow enough to where he could actually manage cohesive thoughts again.  
But they didn’t have time to regain composure before there came a muffled sound of voices from the hallway. Two men. They instantly froze. Aaron’s breathing faltered, his heart almost skipping a beat. Bryan slowly pulled back, and straightened up on the bed.  
Neither of them said a word. The voice belonged to Steven Michael Quezada, unmistakably. He was with Dean, it seemed.  
The two of them held their breath, too stunned to move. And then came the loud knock at the door. Three times. It was like canons going off, and Aaron actually flinched as though he was being shot. Bryan sprung into action. He leapt off the bed, desperately scouring the hotel room floor for his clothes. Picking up his shirt, his fingers got to work on the buttons, closing each one with impeccable speed. Aaron followed his lead and searched for his belongings. Miraculously, he remembered that he had some spare clothes in his duffle bag by his suitcase that he had intended to change into. He had no intention of squeezing back into that impossibly small feminine attire that lay in disarray on the floor.  
“Bryan, you in there?” Steven called from behind the door.  
“Yeah, just a second,” Bryan replied, almost stumbling over Aaron’s luggage by the bed.  
Aaron’s heart raced, a heaviness taking up residency in his chest. He practically leapt into his clean jeans and t-shirt with impeccable swiftness — but almost fell over twice, and needed to use the bed to help stabilize himself.  
Bryan buttoned his pants and straightened out his shirt and stood by the door to glance at Aaron one last time. Still unsteady and feeling like he was likely going to puke, Aaron hopelessly ran both his hands through his hair to try and arrange it neater. He probably looked like a god damn mess.  
Finally, they both exhaled. Bryan opened the door to greet Steven standing there with a huge smile on his face.  
“A few of us are going down to the lounge now,” Steven started. But when he noticed Aaron there too, standing awkwardly by the bed, his tone shifted, became a touch more hesitant. His gaze went back and forth between them.  
“You two want to join us?”  
“Uh— sure, yeah. Aaron?” Bryan was a good actor, but that couldn’t keep the wavering stutter in his voice at bay. He was out of breath, trying too hard to appear composed.  
Aaron gave a quick approving nod, gnawing nervously at his lip.  
“Yeah, we’ll be right down. Thanks, Steve.”  
“Okay.” Steven started to walk away.  
“Second floor, right?” Bryan called after him.  
Aaron let out a small sigh. The door clicked shut again. The two of them just stood there, unmoving. The air seemed to have a weight of its own, and Aaron felt incredibly far away from Bryan. Like if he spoke he wouldn’t be heard. He couldn’t help but feel cold, the sweat on his body now cooling to create a thin film over his skin. He hadn’t had time to even process what was going on before Bryan cleared his throat.  
“You okay?”  
Aaron barely heard him. His mind was on a million other things. What if Steven realized? What if he _knew_? What if he told the others downstairs?  
Aaron nodded, not sure of what else to do.  
Bryan must have noticed his discomfort, because he walked over to him by the bed, and suddenly his hand was on his shoulder, his thumb gently caressing Aaron’s neck.  
“Don’t worry,” he said, in that light-hearted, gentle tone he often adopted when reassuring a weary soul. Aaron heard it a lot on set, before a heavy scene. A tone he used to keep things light and fun. It always worked. Aaron felt a weight being removed from his shoulders, especially looking up into those warm, smiling eyes. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and offered Bryan a soft smirk in return. Bryan leaned down and pressed a tender, warmhearted kiss on Aaron’s cheek, right along his jaw. It was so sweet it literally defeated every single negative thought that was running amok in Aaron’s brain and brought him back to the present, where nothing mattered. The kiss that could cure a thousand ailments. It made Aaron almost envious of his sheer ability to put a smile on anybody’s face and to do so with such little effort. God, he loved him. He loved this man more than anything.  
“I’ll meet you down there,” Bryan said, leaving with a satisfied grin.

The lounge was empty apart from their group which consisted of a handful of members of their cast and crew, including Vince, Dean, Steven, Anna, and several others. The hotel staff had been hired to work later hours that night for their party, and were still serving cocktails.  
The lounge was a modern space with carpeted floors and wide windows looking down on the city happenings one story below. There was one bar behind where they were all sitting, and several sporadically-placed crystal chandeliers produced low, ambient mood lighting.  
As Aaron approached, the gang welcomed him with friendly cheers. They commented on where Jane had gone and jested in good-nature which he always enjoyed and even played along with. Everybody agreed the party had been a great time — seeing everybody that had worked on the show in some way all together, celebrating, was gratifying.  
With another cocktail in his blood, Aaron loosened up as the conversation progressed and the hour was closing on 3:30AM. There was nothing to reveal the events that took place just moments earlier, nothing except the glance that was exchanged between two men from across a table that night, in good company in the lounge of the Zinc hotel.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, the night is far from over. *evil cackle*


End file.
